Listen

by Kris Bryant

  “I wanted to see your bedroom. You should think about putting up a painting or a series of photographs in here.”

  “Um, yeah, I know. I need art for all of my walls. My place is super boring, especially compared to yours.” I sat on the edge of the bed and played with the lacy comforter.

  She crawled over to me. “Do we need to leave this room?”

  I tried really hard not to look down at her cleavage. I wanted to keep eye contact with her and talk about anything but what was on my mind. I failed. The lure of her body and everything that happened between us won out. I surprised us both by reaching down and running my fingertip over the soft, creamy exposed skin.

  “I have little marks on my body,” I said.

  She sat up. “I’m so sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean to—” She stopped talking when I put my finger against her lips.

  “I wasn’t complaining. I actually liked it. It was nice to lose myself with you.”

  She leaned up and kissed my neck softly. “I liked losing myself with you, too. It was a wonderful night, or morning. One that I will never forget.” She nipped lightly at my jaw and I shivered. “Are you okay with this? I just don’t know what you like yet and what you don’t like.”

  I almost snorted. There wasn’t anything she did that was uncomfortable. I was the bumbling idiot who didn’t know anything about pleasing a woman.

  “Everything was nice.” That was a horrible word choice. I shook my head. “Not nice.”

  “It wasn’t nice?” She feigned hurt. She was teasing me and knew full well I was struggling.

  “No, it was great. It was better than nice. So much better. I guess I’m trying to tell you that it was incredible. I’m happy and fortunate that it was with you. My first time.” I ducked my head because I was beyond embarrassed. I was mortified. I’d never had such an intimate conversation before, not even with my therapist.

  “Hey, come here.” Hope put her arms around me. “Listen to me. You were amazing and incredible, and I would have never known that it was your first time. I mean, I knew, but you did everything right and just the way I like it.” She made me look at her and nodded to reaffirm her words. She kissed me. It was soft and sweet, and within seconds, I was flat on my back. She didn’t rush me, and even though I wanted to shed the clothes I just put on, I knew we had all afternoon and evening to just be us. We scooted so our heads rested on the pillows. Hope leaned up on her elbow and ran her fingertips up and down my arm. Chills exploded across half of my body.

  “You are so gentle with me,” I said.

  When her fingers brushed across my neck and over to the other side, I closed my eyes. I could get used to Hope touching me.

  “You are very responsive to touch. It’s nice.”

  “I’m very responsive to your touch.” I emphasized “your” because I wasn’t a touchy-feely person. Even hugs were new to me.

  Her caresses grew bolder. She unbuttoned the second button on my blouse to expose more skin. “Let’s play a game.”

  I quirked an eyebrow at her. I was intrigued. I never played games, but a game in my bedroom? I had a feeling I was going to like this one. A lot. “Okay. Tell me the game and the rules.”

  “I haven’t decided what it’s called yet, but the rules are fun. Every inch of skin that’s exposed, I touch.”

  I refrained from tearing off my clothes. “I think I’m going to like this game. Is it your turn?”

  “It is my turn. Close your eyes.”

  She drew circles on my arm, around my neck, and up to my face. I slightly puckered my lips when her fingers brushed over them. I heard her smile. The bedroom was extremely quiet. I heard her breathing, lazy Sunday traffic, Clio’s bowl clinking against the baseboard as he tried to get more out of it than was there, and the soft hum of the air conditioner blowing cold air into the room.

  Her fingers stalled at the second button. I reached up and unbuttoned the third one, then the fourth. She moved back up to my neck and down my other arm. I could smell her sweet perfume and shampoo as she leaned over to reach my other arm. Her hair brushed across my chest, the silkiness of her waves as soft as her caresses. I reached down and untucked the blouse from my skirt and finished opening the rest of the buttons. She moaned in appreciation. I cracked open my eyes.

  “No peeking.” She furrowed her brows in fake reprimand. I smiled and closed them again. I felt the bed wobble and gasped slightly when I felt her straddle me. Both warm hands pressed against my stomach and ran upward until my bra hindered any further movement. She stopped and waited. I reached up and unclasped the tiny hook in front. My bra bounced open a little bit, but still covered my breasts. She twirled her fingers around the lace until I got the hint and pulled it completely away from my body. I tried not to think of how exposed I was, but when both hands cupped me, I didn’t care. I moaned at her gentle massage. My nipples instantly hardened at her touch. Every single part of my breast was sensitive. I felt her hair on my stomach and chest as she bent to kiss my nipple, but stopped short.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked after several seconds of no movement from her. I opened my eyes and looked at her. She sat back up.

  “This is a touching game only. I almost forgot.”

  “Technically, your mouth would be touching my body, so I think that works in the rules.” I was pleading with her. She cocked her head to the side to contemplate what I was saying. She shook her head.

  “No. I don’t think we can change the rules now. We already started.”

  I groaned and fell back on the pillow. She leaned back and touched my calves. The game was back on.

  “We seem to be in a quandary. You’re on my skirt, so I can’t take it off.” I tried to shrug as nonchalantly as I could with my blouse open and my bra undone. “I guess the game is over. How sad.”

  She chuckled and climbed off me. “Oh, I don’t think it’s over. I think I’m just learning the loopholes.” She leaned back on her elbow and stroked my calves and knees.

  I pulled my skirt up to mid-thigh.

  “Why are your eyes open?”

  I shut them immediately. I moaned when she touched the sensitive skin on the sides of my knees and ran her fingertips up my thighs until they reached the hem. It was going to have to come off. I tilted my pelvis up and awkwardly unzipped it. I fell back on the bed and casually shimmied it down my thighs. I wasn’t even done kicking it off before I felt her fingers on my thighs. I stopped my movements because I needed her touch there. I spread my legs as far as I could with a skirt trapping my knees.

  “You are deliberately making it hard to play this game,” she said.

  I decided to play along. Like this was an inconvenience for me, too. “I don’t believe you’ve touched me everywhere yet.” I had no idea where this confidence was coming from since just a few hours ago, I couldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Roll over.”

  I opened my eyes at that command.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Roll over.”

  Suddenly, I was nervous. It must have shown on my face because Hope instantly backed off.

  “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I’m pushing too fast.”

  I flipped over, slipped out of my blouse, and discarded my bra. I felt ridiculous because I didn’t kick off my skirt. I was still trapped. I dropped my head on the pillow and groaned. I couldn’t even imagine the view Hope had of me. Bare back, pink panties, and a wrinkled skirt wrapped around my knees. A part of me wanted to panic, but once I felt Hope’s soft touch against my back, my panic turned into a fluttering, pleasant feeling that relaxed me and excited me at the same time. I was never going to get used to the up-and-down feelings I experienced with Hope. She massaged, scratched, and then caressed me into a submissive, relaxed woman. When she tugged to pull my skirt off, I didn’t remind her the game was still on. We both knew it was over.

  When I felt her lips on my shoulder, I shuddered as pleasure ripped through my body. I was sensitive everywhere. She straddled me ag
ain and touched and kissed all over my back. The soft area under my shoulder blade made me gasp. I smiled when I felt her lips press twice against my lower back, right above my panties.

  “I love, love these sexy dimples.”

  I had dimples there? She dipped her finger into the band of my panties and rolled them down, exposing the top of my ass. She kissed me there, too. I stiffened at the newness. She felt my hesitation and flipped me again.

  “We’ll save that for another time.” We will? I had no idea what she meant. “You’re so beautiful, Lily. And you’re mine.” She covered my body with hers and stretched my arms above my head.

  Feeling her on top of me sent my pulse racing. She kissed me deeply and pressed herself into me. I spread my legs to accommodate her and ended up wrapping them against her waist as she rolled her hips into me. A heat blossomed inside me and made my entire body feel like it was on fire. This was a different feeling than I had earlier this morning. I pulled off Hope’s shirt. Our lips separated enough to get it over her head, then reconnected immediately. How I ended up in a sitting position with Hope on my lap, I didn’t know, but I liked it. I reached behind her and unlatched her bra. Hope had beautiful breasts and I wanted to feel them again. Taste them again.

  She unpinned my hair and shook it loose. “You should always wear your hair down. It gives you a wild, sexy look that drives me crazy.”

  Noted. I would throw away all hair ties the second she left. She wrapped her hands in my hair and brought her breast to my lips. I didn’t hesitate. I sucked her into my mouth and swirled my tongue around her nipple.

  “Harder.” She moaned. She gasped when I increased the pressure and groaned when she felt the tops of my teeth gently scrape her skin. “Yes, just like that.” She unbuttoned her pants.

  My hands slid to her hips and I pulled her toward me. It was impossible to touch her because her clothes were in the way. She jumped off me to slip out of the rest of her clothes and was back on my lap in seconds. Fuck. My panties were still on. One day I would be good at this. Not today.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Was your day as crazy as mine?” Hope sounded drained.

  I was still on a high from my weekend with her. When my boss emailed me a shitty account, I thanked him and started researching. Nothing was going to break my good mood. “It was busy, but not over the top. What’s going on there?”

  “The same stuff. Hitting up businesses for donations. For some reason, it was easier in our old building. Since we’ve moved, we’ve lost quite a bit of funds. My brother’s company was a big blow to our bottom dollar. I shouldn’t complain. We got a low-rent place for a year.” She sounded dejected. She’d already refused to take any money from me. I was already planning on making an anonymous donation, but I just needed to free up some of my CDs. If she didn’t know I was the one donating, it couldn’t change our relationship dynamics.

  “What about corporate level? Big companies set aside money for exactly this kind of thing. I know you are trying to keep it local, but corporations are a part of local communities whether people like it or not. If I’m out of line, please let me know. I’m just trying to brainstorm with you.” Hope D’Marco knew how to do her job. I was a nobody giving her advice on something I didn’t need to.

  “No, no. You’re right. I love saying locally sponsored, but I would hate to say we are closing. It might be a long shot and I might have sat on it too long.”

  I sent an email to my banker requesting money in a cashier’s check while Hope chatted about the different companies she could try. I could pick up the check by the end of the week and slip it to Agnes and tell her not to let Hope know it was from me. I’d send a courier, but a fifty-thousand-dollar cashier’s check was something that had to be done in person. I knew I could donate as Jillian Crest, but she had disappeared over a decade ago. Resurfacing to donate that kind of money would only generate more focus on her. I couldn’t handle that kind of scrutiny. I also sent my boss an email about the organization and encouraged him to donate. I knew he would get it to the right people and probably donate some money, too. Hope was still talking.

  “Am I interrupting you? I can hear you typing. I’m sorry. I’ll let you go,” she said.

  “No, I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m done. I’m all yours.”

  “I remember the last time you said that to me.”

  I blushed instantly. I remembered it, too. Vividly. And I wanted to relive it. Over and over. I was braver with Hope yesterday. She gave me full permission to touch her anywhere and try anything I wanted. She was patient and respectful with me. I tried not to think about her past lovers and what things they did to her. My inexperience made me feel pathetic, but she never made me feel inadequate.

  “When do I get to see you again?” I rolled my eyes at my own impatience. I refused to be like Carrie in college who wouldn’t let me have any peace and quiet. “I mean, I know this is a busy week for you, but will you be free any night? Maybe we can go to dinner?” I really wanted her to come over and make out with me, but I didn’t know how to say that without sounding desperate.

  “Dinner would be nice. How about Wednesday night? Does that work for you?”

  “Let me check my busy social calendar,” I said.

  She laughed. The deep throaty sounds sent shivers down my spine. “You’re opening up quite nicely. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t already have something else lined up. Isn’t Wednesday pool night at Bleachers?”

  I forgot all about that. Josh sent me a few text messages reminding me that they could always use me on the team and join them anytime I wanted. “I can meet with them anytime. I want to see you.”

  “I would like that very much. I miss you already.”

  I got giddy and tried hard not to giggle like a little girl. “I miss you, too. I’ll think about places we can eat and get back to you.”

  “Or I could just bring dinner over. I like your place. And I love Clio,” Hope said.

  “We would both love that. Okay, get back to work. Text me later if you want.”

  I finally understood the need to be around somebody you loved all of the time. It really was a need. My body, my heart, and my mind wanted to be near her. Since I met Hope two months ago, I hadn’t had a single nightmare, but had several life-changing moments. I always had nightmares if my routine changed at all, even if the changes were good. I fell in love for the first time, I had sex for the first time, I went to a bar with live music for the first time, and only had dreamless nights since I met Hope, which suited me fine. Dr. Monroe had been trying to break me out of my comfort zone for years, but Hope showed me how. Because of her, the idea of hanging out with my colleagues at a bar suddenly wasn’t so scary, even if she wasn’t there to hold my hand. I guess I just thought shutting myself off from the world for the rest of my life was the answer. I was wrong. Climbing out of this hole was going to take a lot of time and patience.

  I stopped working at seven. I pictured Hope still sitting at her desk, expanding her reach to businesses outside of the Chicago area. She was determined. The Leading Note was her dream. I wasn’t sure how much difference my donation would make, but I hoped it would give the center a breather for a bit. Hope had mentioned she didn’t want to stay where they were, but there were so many restoration projects around town that property values were skyrocketing and it was hard to find a safe, cheap place for them near any school or residential area. Chicago had an interesting layout. I lived in Hyde Park, but almost everybody there could afford private lessons for their children and the Leading Note wouldn’t thrive. Plus, the rent for an organization like the Leading Note would be staggering. Hope needed to find an area that needed her as much as she needed it.

  “Clio, do you want Italian or Chinese tonight?”

  He yawned at me. I was indecisive, too. I finally made a decision, placed the order on my phone app, and sat on the couch. I was exhausted. The weekend had been crazy, incredible, and indescribable. I worked late tonight only because
I had to do everything twice because I couldn’t concentrate. I could only think of Hope. Even when she wasn’t here, she was in my heart, and that gave me strength. I turned on the TV to the music stations and pulled up old-time jazz. The music I’d heard in the stores Saturday, mainstream stuff, was horrible. I decided I hadn’t missed much with popular music. I was curious about Miles and his musical history. I would Google him later. Right then, I had zero energy to do anything but sit on the couch and listen to music. When Miles had asked me if I was going to play onstage with them, panic set in, but it wasn’t the bad kind. Since meeting Hope, I’d discovered a different kind of panic. It was the kind that made my heart beat faster and my palms sweat, but I didn’t need to run away. I’d never participated in a jam session before. And I think if I had practiced any instrument, and maybe after I knew everybody a little bit better, I might have done it.

  The doorbell interrupted my fantasy. I buzzed Ryan up and waited at the door. I liked Ryan. He was nice but wasn’t over-the-top friendly. He was there to do his job and do it well. I tipped him more because he understood me. Our exchange at the door took three seconds. The breadsticks smelled wonderful. I prepped a plate of angel hair, Alfredo with a dash of pesto, and a breadstick.

  I retreated to my computer and looked up Miles Brand on Google and then YouTube. Surprisingly, he didn’t start playing until he was fifteen. I listened to several clips that fans had uploaded. I hated bad recordings because you missed the subtleness between notes. Some musicians wanted to make that distinction, which I always found distracting, so whenever I heard somebody play who was smooth, it always caught my ear.

  As much as I wanted to Google myself, I couldn’t do it. I knew the most watched clip was going to be my meltdown onstage or the first time I conducted. An eleven-year-old conductor. I smiled. I barely remembered it, but I do remember the looks on the faces of the orchestra. Most of their faces were pinched with disdain. Only a few took me seriously. They especially didn’t like it when I gave them advice. An eleven-year-old couldn’t possibly master anything. I moved on from that memory. I punched in Hope’s name and was surprised by everything that popped up. There were several interviews about the Leading Note and the push for community awareness and involvement. Hope looked young, eager, and excited. She was still all of those, but heavy doses of reality had jaded her somewhat. The world wasn’t as giving as we all wanted.